Love of Fate (Amor Fati)
What is most important? Being able to endure adversity with a glad mind, to experience whatever happens as though you wanted it to happen to you. For you ought to have wanted it to, if you had known that everything happens according to god’s decree. Crying, complaining, and moaning are rebellion. (Seneca, Natural Questions III, praef. 12)
From the perspective provided by the cosmic viewpoint (Day 2), we can learn to love what happens in our lives. The Stoics propose that we should love all events, even those that appear tragic from our human perspective. Why? Because to do otherwise is “rebellion” according to Seneca. It is an act of rebellion against the cosmos because we are claiming more power than we truly have. If we act virtuously with the intent to have result “A” happen but “B” happens instead, “crying, complaining, and moaning” about it indicates we think we have more power than we actually have. As Epictetus repeatedly teaches, it is a psychologically damaging mistake to assume we have the power necessary to bring about the end we seek. Our intention to act is “up to us” but our ability to complete the act and the result are beyond our control. This is the primary lesson of the dichotomy of control. The truth is that neither “A” nor “B” are completely “up to us.” Only our thoughts and intentions toward “A” and ‘B’ are “up to us.” Therefore, when a Stoic intends result “A” and engages in actions to bring that about, they must do so with a “reserve clause” that acknowledges fate may not cooperate.
Obviously, love of fate and the cosmic viewpoint are interdependent. Together, they allow us to aim at an appropriate goal “A” and intend to bring about that goal with the attitude that we will accept and love outcome “B” if that is what happens. That is love of fate. Keep in mind that loving “B” does not preclude appropriate actions to bring about “A” a second, third, fourth, or thousandth time. There might be a reason it took numerous attempts at “A” to bring it about. Likewise, “A” may never happen. Marcus Aurelius accepted and loved fate because he trusted the cosmos was providentially ordered. He wrote:
Providence permeates the works of the gods; and the works of fortune are not dissociated from nature, but intertwined and interwoven by all that is ordered by providence. Everything flows from there; but necessity is implicated too, and the benefit of the whole universe of which you are a part. (Meditations 2.3)
In Meditations 12.24, Marcus tells us how to act in accordance with fate:
- Always act with a “definite aim” in accordance with Justice.
- Remember that “whatever happens to you from outside is due either to chance or to providence.” In other words, the result is “not up to us.”
- We “should neither blame chance nor bring accusations against providence.”
Interestingly, this attitude toward fate does not result in a fatalistic pessimism among the Stoics. The popular caricature of the stoic as someone who grins and bears the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune is an unfortunate mischaracterization. Seneca pointed out the difference between the grin and bear it attitude of “grudging obedience” and “willing obedience” to providence:
No matter which is true, Lucilius, or even if they all are, we must still practice philosophy. Perhaps the inexorable law of fate constrains us; perhaps God, the universal arbiter, governs all events; perhaps it is chance that drives human affairs, and disrupts them: all the same, it is philosophy that must preserve us. Philosophy will urge us to give willing obedience to God, and but a grudging obedience to fortune. It will teach you to follow God; to cope with chance. (Seneca, Letters 16.5)
Grudging obedience to fate is a philosophical attitude; however, it is not the Stoic attitude. Marcus Aurelius provides a beautiful expression of the Stoic attitude that comes from willing obedience to a providential cosmos,
Everything suits me that suits your designs, O my universe. Nothing is too early or too late for me that is in your own good time. (Meditations 4.23)
This same attitude was expressed by Epictetus:
But if I in fact knew that illness had been decreed for me at this moment by destiny, I would welcome even that; for the foot, too, if it had understanding, would be eager to get spattered with mud.’ (Discourses 2.6.10)
Contrast the attitude expressed by Seneca, Marcus, and Epictetus with the “crying, complaining, and moaning” of those who rebel against events they do not like and you begin to see the true nature of the Stoic attitude toward fate.Stoics do not grin and bear it; they welcome and love all events as if they wanted them to occur. Pierre Hadot describes this Stoic love of fate as follows:
By consenting to the present event which is happening to me, in which the whole world is implied, I want that which universal Reason wants, and identify myself with it in my feeling of participation and belonging to a Whole which transcends the limits of individuality.[1]
Fate is a big pill to swallow for moderns who believe they can apply the famous lines from Invictus, “I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul”[2] to overcome external obstacles of any kind. The Stoics understood that we are the masters of our thoughts and intentions alone. Our ability to act on those intentions and the outcome are simply “not up to us.” The truth of the matter is this: We are far more constrained and, therefore, far less free than we like to admit. We are constrained by time and place of birth, genetics, environment, social circumstances, educational opportunity, etc. We cannot change those facts; they are “not up to us.” Fortunately, in spite of all those external constraints, there is profound freedom within our thoughts and intentions, and they are “up to us.” Moral excellence (virtue) and a good flow in life (happiness) are not constrained by any of the externals listed above. Regardless of whether one is constrained by the lowly circumstances of slavery, as Epictetus was, or the fortunate circumstances of the Roman emperor, like Marcus Aurelius, Stoicism provides a way of life that can transcend external events.
Yes, we are the dog tied to the cart of fate in the famous Stoic metaphor. However, we do not have to be dragged, yelping and howling, behind the cart. There is a better way. We can choose to follow the cart willingly toward an excellent life. We can follow the path of the Stoics by adopting a cosmic viewpoint and loving all events that occur.
Try the following during some quiet time:
- Make a list of the apparently “bad” or “tragic” events that are significant in your life and then ask the following about each of them:
- In hindsight, do those events seem different than they did at the time? If so how?
- For each of those events, find at least one valuable lesson you learned or one way in which you are a better person as a result of that event. Don’t stop at one; list as many as you can.
- If you change your mind about those apparently “bad” or “tragic” events in your past and decide to view them as trials (see Day 2), which provided an opportunity for personal growth and character development, how would your attitude about those events change?
- Would that attitude change affect your life positively?
- If so, why not try to see things from a cosmic viewpoint for a while and see what happens?
- Why not try loving all the events that occur in your life for a while and see if it makes a difference in your well-being?
Throughout the day, commit yourself to do the following and pay attention to your mental state as you do so. First, every time you set out to do something, say to yourself, “I intend this outcome fate permitting.” This will remind you that the result is not up to you. Then, whatever the result may be, remind yourself the outcome is a moral indifferent and repeat Marcus’ affirmation:
Everything suits me that suits your designs, O my universe. Nothing is too early or too late for me that is in your own good time. (Meditations 4.23)
ENDNOTES:
[1] Pierre Hadot, The Inner Citadel: the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1998), p. 145
[2] William Ernest Henley, Invictus (1875)
